Some part of her wished she’d somehow gotten a wrong number.

“You!” Melanie’s voice came through. “Wait. Give me a second.” There was shuffling, and Emily heard Melanie telling someone it was an important call that she had to take.

“Um?” Emily asked.

“Okay,” Melanie returned. “I’m away from prying ears.”

“It’s eyes,” Emily said.

“What?”

“N-never mind,” she said. “Uh, did you . . . want to . . . talk?”

“Do I? Yeah, girl, of course I do,” Melanie said. Her voice grew louder. “What were you thinking? I know it worked out in the end, but . . . God, you’re still just a newbie. Homie might be some small-fry punk but that doesn’t mean you should have just run in there solo. And no, having a fourteen-year-old with you doesn’t make it any less dangerous.”

“I’m sorry?” Emily said. “I . . . he had the drive.”

The phone rumbled as Melanie sighed into its microphone. “Yeah, all right. So do you have it?”

“The drive?”

Melanie scoffed. “I’m not asking about common sense—we both know you don’t have that. Yeah, the drive.”

“I destroyed it,” Emily said.

“Destroyed how?”

“Um. We burned it, then smashed it a bit, but it was hard, so I tossed it in a river. Do you think that’s enough?”

Melanie hummed. “I guess? Was it a solid state drive? Or one of those old ones with a disk? Mechanical ones are a lot more fragile. But . . . yeah, lighting it on fire and flinging it in a lake would do.”

“Oh, okay, but . . . it’s done?” Emily asked. “We’re safe now?”

Melanie took a little while to respond, which didn’t inspire confidence in the least. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“Oh, good,” Emily said. It was good. In fact, it was great. She could go on living a normal life, returning to working toward her goal of reaching a Gray morality, while figuring out how to take care of her summons.

It was all coming together.

“Hey, kid,” Melanie said. “I think I might have a job for you.”

Emily’s eagerness petered out. “A-a job?”

“Yeah. Nothing too big, but it might help you. Your career’s already taken off a fair bit. With some decent management, you could make it pretty big, if only locally.”

“I don’t think I want that,” Emily said.

“Nah, it’s good for you. Tell you what, why don’t we meet for an early dinner? I’ll tell you all about it. I’ll send you the address, and don’t worry— I’ll pay the tab.”

“What? No, no, it’s okay, I . . .” Emily stopped when she realized that she was talking to a dial tone.

She lowered her phone, then glared at it when the screen lit up to show a texted address and time.

“Are you okay, Big Sister Emily?” Athena asked.